


Set my heart awhirl.

by xcarex



Category: Actor RPF, Disney RPF, JONAS RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mermaid, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-24
Updated: 2012-03-24
Packaged: 2017-11-02 10:52:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/368193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xcarex/pseuds/xcarex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick and Logan becoming friends under unusual circumstances.  Nick feels strangely drawn to Logan, driven by a life-long mystery.  Logan is keeping two big secrets, but he's not sure which one will freak Nick out more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Set my heart awhirl.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Stop Being Cool](https://archiveofourown.org/works/155275) by [gigantic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gigantic/pseuds/gigantic). 
  * Inspired by [I Feel Weird (or Five Times Nick Jonas Makes Logan Lerman Feel Weird)](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/7425) by moneyfolder. 



> Despite the rather AU/mythological elements of this fic, it's actually stupidly detailed with canonical events in early 2010. I wrote this awhile ago and then somehow forgot to finish and post it. Whoops? The title of this fic is taken from "The Mermaid" by Great Big Sea. Don't worry-- Nick and Logan do NOT encounter the "Mermaid Problem" trope. Also, big thanks to insunshine@lj and gigantic@lj for encouraging this pairing and especially for reading this in the early stages and not telling me I was completely insane.

_Through the halls flowed a broad stream, and in it danced the mermen and the mermaids to the music of their own sweet singing. No one on earth has such a lovely voice as theirs._  
\- Hans Christian Andersen

 _The Sirens by the melody of their singing enchant him._  
\- Homer

 

A small boy with dark brown curls sat on a crowded tour boat, lower lip quivering, envious of his older brothers and dad. They were getting outfitted with flippers and snorkels with some other tourists, while Nick had to stay in the boat and wait with their mother. They'd promised him there might be dolphins, and the ride out on the boat was pretty cool, but it just didn't seem _fair_. So what if they were bigger? He'd be seven at the end of the summer, which was totally old enough to go snorkelling, too. They weren't even paying attention to him-- Joe and Kevin were too busy bickering over who got the blue snorkel, not wanting to get stuck with the girly pink one, and Nick leaned over the edge of the boat to look at the water. It seemed bluer than the Atlantic at home in Jersey. California was weird. This whole vacation was weird. He missed his friends and his toys and Disneyland was cool but right then, he wanted to go home.

Pouting, Nick could see his own reflection on the surface of the water as the boat rocked slowly in the surf. He wouldn't cry. He didn't want to be the baby of the family anymore. He was a pretty good swimmer, and he wanted to snorkel. There were fish down there, and he could see them, and he wanted to touch them. He looked longingly down at the ocean. 

And then, a face appeared, not his blurry reflection. It was a boy about Nick's own age. Nick recoiled in surprise, looked back at his family with wide eyes to see if they'd seen it too, but they were still busy ignoring him. Nick leaned back over the edge and looked into the ocean. The boy was still there, staring right up at Nick, no goggles or a snorkel to help him breathe, but he wasn't scared. The boy seemed friendly. 

Nick then realized he could hear music, but not from the tinny radio on the boat, which was blaring some pop song that his mom seemed to like. Something else. It was like the music was coming from _under_ the water. The boy was singing to him, but it wasn't a regular song. It didn't have words. His mouth wasn't even moving, but Nick knew that the boy was the source of the melody that swam into Nick's mind and swirled around. 

The boy under the water smiled up at him, waved. Beckoned him to come for a swim. 

The music got louder.

Nick reached a small pudgy hand out towards the surface of the water. Almost, almost. He slipped over the edge of the boat and into the ocean with hardly a sound.

The water was a lot colder than he'd expected. He'd taken a breath before he'd gone under but his lungs burned all the same. The salt stung his eyes when he opened them. Where was the other boy? 

Then: "Hi."

Startled, Nick looked around wildly. He'd played "guess what I'm saying" enough times underwater with his brothers to remember that everything they'd said just sounded like noise and bubbles, and yet this greeting sounded as clear as if it had been said sitting safely on the beach.

"What's your name?" came the voice again, and Nick squinted through the water to see the face more clearly. A boy his age with dark hair, blue eyes and a wide, friendly grin. "I'm--"

Nick was suddenly yanked out of the water by strong arms, and found himself face to face with a scruffy-looking tanned man he recognized as the snorkeling tour guide. The music in his mind stopped immediately, replaced by shrieks of panic from the people on the boat, particularly his mother's. It was chaos on the catamaran; people in flippers, goggles and snorkels everywhere, all stepping back as far as they could to give them room. Nick coughed a few times, and the man laid him down on a padded bench seat. "You alright, little dude?" 

He blinked and rubbed the saltwater from his eyes. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you."

The tour guide laughed, surprised. "Whoa. That's the most polite drowning victim I've ever had."

"I wasn't drowning!" Nick sat up in protest, and looked back over the edge at the water. The boy was gone. "I was just... swimming." 

His family surrounded him, flippers and all. His mom was lecturing him on getting too close to the edge of the boat, but she still sounded relieved that he was okay, so Nick didn't mind getting chastised. Someone wrapped him in a large fuzzy towel, someone else handed him a juice box. The face of the boy in the water faded from his mind, as did the memory of his bell-clear voice. He leaned against his mother's side, and sighed. He wasn't as envious of his brothers anymore, Nick decided. He'd had enough of the ocean for one day.

 

Later, back on the busy beach, Nick saw a family huddled around a big red and white lifeguard stand. It was the same one that his mom had pointed out earlier as the place to go to if any of them got lost, and couldn't find their way back to the spot their family had staked out amongst all the umbrellas and blankets. Lots of people on the beach were shouting, looking for a missing boy named Logan. A couple of the lifeguards ran into the sea to search for him there. 

The boy and the girl looked scared, just like Kevin and Joe had looked when Nick was first pulled out of the water, but the parents were calm and maybe a little embarrassed, not like Nick's parents at all. Like they knew the missing boy, Logan, was fine. He'd turn up eventually.

Nick thought that was weird. But the melody he'd heard underwater was still in his head, quieter and slower now, like the old music box he'd found in his grandmother's attic. Tinkling away.

 

+++++

 

Something Logan doesn't tell people in interviews: he's adopted, and his biological parents don't exactly keep in touch. He barely remembers his early life, like most human children, but there are certain major memories that stand out for obvious reasons.

1) Getting his legs.  
2) Walking on them for the first time.  
3) His first peanut butter sandwich.

Admittedly, the third item on that list shouldn't be all that remarkable, except that sandwich had been the first time Logan had even seen bread, or any non-sentient food, for that matter. It was his first non-aquatic meal and it was quite delicious, hence it makes the top three. He still craves raw seafood most of the time, though, and fortunately sushi is everywhere in Los Angeles. 

The other two memories, okay, kind of a big deal. Humans are born with legs, and get to try walking on them over a period of time when they're small and not expected to do so with any particular level of skill, but that's not how it goes for children of the sea. They don't get theirs until they visit land for the first time, and even though Logan got to try walking much earlier than most of his people, things might have been easier had he been given legs before he was expected to know how to walk, and therefore able to blend in like any regular orphan child. He may have had magical legs, but they were also brand new, and previously untested. 

Basically, his first few attempts at even standing up were pretty shaky. However, having adoptive parents who worked with orthotics was pretty helpful in the process, and Logan was in and out of his knee and ankle braces fairly quickly as he grew stronger and more sure of his legs and feet. 

Granted, Logan looks like your average eighteen-year-old boy. Having grown up under the unforgiving scrutiny of a camera lens without any question about his humanity is a good sign that he's been passing as normal. Whatever enchantment was put on him as a toddler, when he was left crying and alone beside a tide pool at San Clemente, has held strong for nearly two decades now. But that's fish-magic for you.

The fact of the matter is, while Logan has everything below the waist that he's supposed to as a human male, he's still, genetically, a merman.

And up until recently, that hadn't really been an issue.

The Lerman family has been really great, totally accepting. It was something they'd always joked about, knowing that he was different from the day they brought him home from the foster care facility. Logan's an incredible swimmer and able to hold his breath underwater for frighteningly long periods of time. It always scared them how long he'd stayed down there, and so he would come up whether he needed air or not. But even still, Logan intentionally kept secret what hazy memories he had of his past, like having a fish tail for starters, worried about what the family might think, especially his brother and sister. Either they'd believe him and treat him like a freak (which he kind of is), or more likely, think he was completely crazy, and ship him back to Social Services... or dump him in the ocean itself.

 

On Logan's thirteenth birthday, he was given a letter from his birth parents. His mom and dad, the Lermans to be more specific, had received it forwarded from the adoption agency, and they gave him the choice of opening it or not. He was too curious. He had to know. Upon reading it, Logan knew that it was time he sat them all down and explained as best he could what he knew, and what had been confirmed by the mysterious letter. They've kept his secret ever since, and he felt they were even closer for it. There had been other people Logan had wanted to tell over time, particularly his best friend Dean, but somehow Logan felt that he couldn't trust his biggest secret to the kid who had gotten drunk off two beers and admitted to having had a crush on Spinelli from "Recess."

The letter itself wasn't particularly long, but later on Logan realized he was impressed that it was in English. He wasn't certain what language was spoken under the sea, but he just assumed he'd understood it as a baby. He also noted that it was written on paper, in ballpoint ink, and not on a seashell or something. 

 

"To our son," it had read, "we hope this letter finds you healthy, happy, and successful. We have been coming to the Dry Land to watch you grow up, but this has been more difficult as we age. Someday, we will not be able to come at all, as we will be unable to transform. It is our wish that you come to visit some day. Dear boy, there is much to tell you about the world from which we come. It is unlike anything you have ever imagined, but we felt that the Dry Land was a better fit for someone of your distinct talents. We hope that you agree, and are not bitter about your place in life. Good things lie ahead, we are certain.

"We write this letter because we are uncertain how much you might even recall of your earliest years. Our kind has a different sort of memory, as we age faster than the humans that you walk amongst. WALK! Oh, how we have seen you walk! Do not be alarmed, the body you have is yours, we only made the necessary adjustments to allow you a normal human lifespan. But if you feel like you are wiser and older than your physical body suggests, it is because your mind and soul are still of our kind.

"You will read many legends, many stories of our people. Some of those stories are true, but most are false or imagined. We are not a malevolent kind. We are loyal to those who do us kindnesses, and any perceived violence is result of protecting our home from those who may intrude upon our territories. We are enchanting to those who see us for who we really are, and sometimes this can be overpowering. It is in our nature to attract others, both spiritually and physically. As you mature, please be mindful of this, as you may do so unwittingly with often-grave consequences. Because of your unconscious charms, people will be quick to confide in you and seek your attentions, and you must not abuse that privilege.

"Son, please know that you are not alone in the Dry Land. There are many of our kind who have chosen the life of adventure on the surface, as we chose for you. You may choose to seek them out, although such precious efforts are taken to hide that you may have difficulty spotting them amongst the humans, just as you will initially appear human to them. We have learned much about the world in which you now live, and have determined that you should not give out your true self to anyone but those you love and trust most deeply. We wish only for you to be safe.

"Know that we miss you, and hope you will study your ancestry and culture as best you can, as you have an estate as well as a legacy to inherit, if you so choose to return to us permanently. We will not live for many more of your years, as the sea is unforgiving even to its inhabitants. Please, do not forget yourself. Be well."

 

And that was it. No names, no address. Logan was comforted slightly by the idea that his birth parents had watched him from afar his whole life, and had his best interests at heart, but it was also somewhat unsatisfying. Did they have TV down there? Had they seen the movies he'd been in? Was his affinity for the performing arts so obvious as a baby (pup? calf? fry?) that he was sent to land to _act_? 

And what the hell kind of a lame birthday card skirts around the Big Truth of his existence, suggesting instead that he consult his local library for more information? 

 

+++++

 

It's stupid. Nick didn't really mean to break up with Selena the week before, but then it just sorta happened, and he doesn't regret it. Selena had been too busy for him, he was tired of not seeing her, and while he feels like a bit of an ass about it, Nick doesn't especially care. They'll still be friends. Probably. They won't even make a formal announcement or anything, because they hadn't even been all that serious, but word seemed to be getting out all the same. 

Honestly, his love life is so much more interesting on a blog than it is in person.

On top of all that, he and Nicole are spending more time together this season, both on-camera and off, and he's not certain whether it's because he's newly single and she's interested, or just because she's easy to be around. Nick can't actually tell. But almost immediately, rumours begin to spread around the gossip sites about he and _Nicole_ dating, and somehow that has ended up being the case for their characters, too, which in turn has led them out to this beach.

The weird thing about filming a sitcom is that even the exterior scenes are usually filmed indoors on a soundstage. So this whole move-JONAS-to-LA thing was kind of exciting, because even though they'd been filming in Hollywood all along, they now got to go _outside_. As Nick looks around at the crew standing around on a sunny closed-off section of a beach, he's fully enjoying being out in the sunshine. He can already tell that filming this season is going to be a lot more fun.

However, as much as he loves the change of pace, Nick isn't wild about the wardrobe change. He's standing around between takes in a very revealing wet-suit, and the costume supervisor is staring him now, clucking her tongue and wondering aloud if it isn't too scandalous for their target Disney audience. Nick blushes. It's not really his idea of comfortable beachwear, although if pressed he would admit that he didn't hate the admiring looks coming from Nicole and some of the female crew members. He's not really attracted to any of them, but it doesn't hurt the old self-esteem. He idly wonders if any of them remember he's only seventeen.

The trickier aspect of this particular scene is the actual surfing part. He's gotten a couple of lessons, but it just isn't really his strong point. He's more of a golf person. An on solid ground, sneakers-and-pants sports guy. 

He really doesn't want to embarrass himself in from of the entire crew, not to mention the on-looking fans, photographers and tourists gawking on either side of them. Not exactly a secluded beach, although they'd paid to cordon off a decently sized section for the day.

Today's challenge: he had to paddle out, and then jump up and surf back to where Nicole was standing, all while staying within range of the camera. Nick even came out early to practice again with his coach this morning before everyone else showed up. He'd nailed it once, but wiped out twice. There were professional surfers hired to stay in the background as well as help Nick if he got into a jam, but _still_. 

It's not like he's a stuntman; he's barely an actor. He's a songwriter first and everything else second. 

Nick gets the cue from the director and starts to paddle out, but the waves aren't cooperating. He sits on his board, watching for what he'd been taught to wait for. Seabirds spin and dive above him, and he could feel his sunscreen starting to fail, the first prickle of a burn on the tops of his ears. An entire team of cameramen, lighting and sound guys, cast and extras... everyone just standing there, looking at him expectantly, and all he can do is stare back at them. He's ready, but the surf is not something Nick can control. Not like being on stage.

But, there! There's the wave he's been waiting for. Nick rises unsteadily to his feet just in the right moment, and immediately feels pretty proud of himself. He wooshes towards the beach, but groans when he realizes just how off-course he'd managed to get, missing his mark by over ten feet.

People rush towards him, fixing his hair and giving him pointers. He paddles out again, and once again misses where Nicole is standing. Nick wonders why they don't just move the damn camera, since that's obviously the direction the ocean wishes him to go. Instead he paddles out for the third time, and makes it much closer to where the camera needs him to be, but some damn seagull swept down and completely obscured his face, rendering the shot useless. More hair and make-up, a long drink of water, back at it. Next time he does it right, but the lighting is wrong. 

Awesome.

As Nick begins to paddle back for yet another take, he has to force himself to smile. That feeling of excitement at the fresh air and sunshine is fading fast. The show is supposed to look a little shaky, but this is ridiculous. He wants to march right up to the director and demand the scene be changed, so they might use one of his crappier takes. Maybe it wasn't so much in character, but the writers tended to play fast and loose with how they perceived them on a daily basis anyhow, so Nick doesn't see the big deal. He is his character, isn't he? Maybe Nick- _From-Jonas_ isn't always amazing at everything either.

Another attempt, and another. Neither was spectacular and his arms are getting tired from paddling out, but he's getting closer to the mark with each try, and so Nick vows he'll give it one more shot before suggesting they take it in another direction.

That was what Nick was debating instead of noticing the speedboat zooming into the shot, and heading directly for him. All he thought when the water began to swell beneath him quickly was "This is it! This is the wave! Go go go go go!"-- and as quickly as the thought shot across his mind, he was pulled off his board and underwater.

Nick finds himself upside down, thrashing about, immediately trying to determine which way is "up." He feels rather than really sees the boat crashing through the water above him. He squints through the water, trying to see clearly and not letting his mouth open and gasp for air, as terror streaked through his body. Something, _someone_ , was gripping his ankle. And at the back of his head, buried behind all the fear and panic, was music. A melody he hadn't heard in over a decade.

He then promptly kicked Logan in the face.

+++++

 

Logan knows that swimming in the ocean alone, even on a crowded day, isn't always necessarily the best decision. His parents would worry a lot more about Lindsey and Lucas, though. He's more concerned about being recognized than any oceanic danger. There's some kind of TV show being filmed down the beach, and that seemed to be what most of the commotion was about. Nobody notices him.

Choosing a small, less-occupied portion of the beach, Logan drops a backpack holding his towel and water bottle onto the sand, and strips off his t-shirt, tucking it into the bag as well. His car keys zip safely into the pocket of his shorts, and he's ready to go. 

He plans on being out there for a while. He's been busy with _Percy Jackson_ press, and it's finally been in theatres for three weeks and doing okay. Not amazing, not wizard or vampire money, but definitely decently. Logan just can't handle the stress of following the box office any longer, and needs to get into the water.

Mostly he just tests to see how long he can stay under for. It's a game he's played since he was a child, like he supposed a lot of kids do, but he doesn't get the burn in his lungs, the pressure in his ears or the panic. It was getting up to ridiculous lengths of time. He was impressed with himself when he made it over 20 minutes, since that was longer than the world records, and longer than a manatee. But he could go for longer, and he knew it. His parents gave him a sweet diver's watch for his birthday last year so he could keep track.

Logan usually surfaces out of paranoia of being watched, rather than necessity. And sometimes he takes a snorkel or a scuba tank in deeper waters, just to look normal, but never the typical fins or goggles. He has perfectly clear vision, obscured only by shadows and shifting sand. If the whole acting thing doesn't work out, Logan could always have a career in ocean Search and Rescue, or maybe freelance hunting for sunken treasure.

He wades out, then takes a breath, and slips under. He takes a moment to adjust to the temperature, and then just starts swimming without a particular destination in mind. When Logan is underwater, he thinks about his birth parents, and wonders about merfolk. If he were to ever want to meet his true family, how would he go about it? Would they ever contact him again? Would he recognize himself in them? 

The questions only give way to more questions. 

Does he have siblings under the sea? How would he find them, if his parents died before he found them? And would he have to transform back to do it? Would it be permanent, or could he return to land if it turns out that being a merman totally sucks? Flippers or tail or two tails or a selkie skin or, fuck! There were too many options. At this point, Logan had read too many books and seen all of the movies, and there were so many conflicts between the legends. 

He'd even seen a particularly cheesy 80s mermaid porn, which Dean had found online and insisted they watch one Saturday night, not realizing how appropriate the subject matter. It was basically "Splash", but with a lot more tits and awkward fucking, and no Tom Hanks. Logan knew he was supposed to get turned on, but instead he could only think about his mother. 

Total boner-killer. 

The letter said they often lived among people. Would Logan recognize one if he saw one? And more importantly, would they know him to be one, too?

So, yeah, he had dozens of questions and zero concrete answers. He still didn't know how to determine fact from fiction, either, since most stuff purported itself to be myth or legend anyway. It's been five years since he got that letter from his parents with no further contact, so they were no help. But all myths and legends had to be rooted in some kind of fact, right? It didn't seem possible to Logan that countries and cultures all over the world for thousands of years had been separately coming up with people-under-the-sea stories all on their own without some history of merfolk interacting with humans. Logan wants answers.

Except, hey, he's got school, at least for a couple more months, and he's got his career. It's not like he can fuck off and go hunting merfolk up and down both coasts, at least not yet. He'll have to start with the greater Los Angeles area.

He'd even checked out online how much manned submersibles cost, and while he's doing pretty well and has enough money tucked away from acting as a kid, he's not really ready to break into his college fund in order to go down in the ocean in one of those things. Logan figures he's got a better chance of befriending James Cameron and using his crew than Logan's parents ever letting him buy one on his own.

So, Logan goes to the beach. 

He cruises around in the shallows for awhile, and does his best to avoid kids playing, but he always finds himself drawn farther and farther out to sea.

Logan knows that there's such a thing as getting too far from land, and he needs to be mindful of jet skis and larger watercraft. Too many close calls in the past, particularly with idiot college kids on spring break. Eventually, Logan turns back towards land, trying to guess without surfacing where he'd left his stuff. But despite his clear vision, Logan doesn't realize he's getting into a busier area until the colourful bottoms of surfboards rise above him, and he has to go deeper to avoid the dangling feet of people waiting for waves. He's lost in thought, wondering for the millionth time what might indicate his innate "mer"-ness to a stranger. How might his identity be given away, and could that be a way to identify someone else like him?

Surfers are harder to avoid generally because they don't splash around nearly as much, so when Logan makes his way towards where they're filming the TV show, it certainly wasn't intentional. He hears the boat's noisy motor getting closer, and it gets increasingly loud as it approaches him. He dives down to the bottom, looks up at the surfers, and realizes the boat's trajectory. 

It was quickly closing in. Why wasn't that one surfer getting out of the way?

Pushing off from the sandy ocean floor and buoyancy doing its part, Logan moves faster through the water than he ever has before. He grabs the surfer by the foot, wrapping his arms around his calf, and dives down again as quickly as he could. Fuck fuck fuck, the boat is almost on them. The surfer is larger than Logan, stronger, but Logan holds on tight, pulling the guy down with him. The whole ocean seems to be churning and the boat crosses only a few feet overhead. 

The guy, Nick, struggles, and kicks out hard. He connects.

Logan sees stars, and releases his grip.

 

Nick finally finds "up" and surfaces quickly then, spitting out water and looking around. He watches the boat turn and head back out to sea. People are screaming at the boat, and screaming Nick's name. He waves his arms and shouts "I'm okay!" to the crowd on the beach. He turns to look for his board, and spots it thirty feet away. The other surfers, the professionals posing as extras, are scattered around and collecting their own boards before presumably heading his way.

Logan pops up next to him, a hand pressed to his left eye. "What the hell, man?"

Nick snaps his head around, turning his body as quickly as one can in the waves. 

"Why did you kick me? I was trying to save your life."

Nick just stares at Logan, salt water dripping from his thick curls. "Where the heck did you come from?"

"I was swimming under you guys. Saw the boat."

"Oh. Thanks, I mean. He would've smashed right into me. Asshole." 

"No problem," Logan grins. "Right place, right time."

Nick offers Logan a half-smile in return, still a little stunned by the ordeal, then turns and begins swimming back towards the beach. "You scared me, though. The way you just grabbed me from down below, I thought you were a... I don't know what. A shark, maybe. Or some kind of sea-monster." 

_Pretty fucking close_ , Logan thinks, and kicks easily into a head-up breaststroke, keeping pace with Nick. "Sorry. There wasn't exactly time for introductions."

Nick stops swimming, realizes his born-and-bred manners. He doesn't offer a hand to shake but he does come out with "Right. I'm Nick. Nick Jonas."

"Hey." Jeez, of course he's Nick Jonas. They didn't exactly run in the same circles, aside from that really nice stuff Selena had said about him that time, but still, he should have recognized him at least through sheer pop-culture osmosis. "My name's Logan."

 

+++++

 

Nick gets a few days off from filming thanks to the Big Incident. They end up using B-roll footage of a stunt double, and the show continues shooting, but focuses on Joe and Kevin's storyline. Nick uses his free time to call Logan and invites him out to lunch. Logan is still attending high school during the day, so he suggests an early supper instead.

"It's a thanks-for-saving-my-life dinner," Nick explains. "I owe you. Seriously."

Logan accepts the invitation when Nick offers to pick him up. Logan insists on some kind of seafood, says it's only natural considering where they met, and they end up at Sushi Kiyono. It's so close to Logan's house that they probably should have walked, and Nick thinks that maybe next time, they _will_ walk.

Nick's only known the guy for two days, they haven't even ordered their food yet, and already he's thinking about next time. 

Japanese isn't really Nick's favourite, but he's learned that it's not just about sushi, and gets rice and a bunch of appetizers instead. Yakitori and tonkatsu-- meats and tangy sauce. Easier to pick up with chopsticks, as he's not really deft with them, and hopes that Logan doesn't notice when he fumbles even with his first piece. He gets the impression that Logan will be an expert with chopsticks, and really doesn't want to look like an ass.

He's right, of course. Logan digs into a plate of tuna rolls, mumbles something about trying to keep kosher, and smiles. Nick catches himself staring, and drops his eyes to his plate of yakitori. He concentrates on manoeuvring a piece of chicken off the skewer, and hears Logan chuckle. 

"You can ask for a fork, or just pick it up and eat it, if that's easier."

Nick stabs harder with his chopsticks in one hand and pulls at the skewer with the other. "I can do it."

"Dude. I won't judge."

Of course he wouldn't. Nick can't even look up at Logan, meet those giant blue eyes. For some reason, he's incredibly self-conscious and finds himself wanting to surprise the boy across the table. Nick hasn't felt the need to impress anyone with his table manners so much in his life, and he's been to the White House.

Logan pauses, takes a drink of his lemonade, and Nick victoriously frees another piece of chicken, but it skitters across and off his plate. He studies Logan's hands, and how he grips his chopsticks. Logan notices, reaches over, and adjusts the top chopstick in Nick's hand. "Okay, try that." 

"Oh, yeah. Huh." Nick scissors the chopsticks in the air, humming a little. Logan doesn't know the tune, but it's familiar somehow. Nick pokes at his food with renewed poise. "I think I've got the hang of it now. Thanks."

"I'm glad." Logan is studying him now, but it's actually pretty encouraging. Something about Logan made Nick feel like he could do pretty much anything. "They definitely take some getting used to. I promise it'll get easier."

Nick switches over to the much-easier-to-eat tonkatsu and feels like a total rock star when he picks up the pork with ease. "Dessert after this?" He's thinking something that involves real utensils, like pie.

Logan nods, and turns back to his own plate. "Absolutely."

 

+++++

 

Mrs. Jonas makes Nick blush to the roots of his hair when Logan visits their home for the first time, teasingly recounting how big a fan Nick was of _Jack and Bobby_ , and how it helped build the family joke about Nick running for president some day. Logan just grins and thanks her, both for watching the show that basically gave him a career, and for the ammunition with which to tease the living daylights out of Nick. He stays for dinner and by the time people start getting up for seconds, Logan feels like he's part of the family.

If Logan had his way, he'd probably hang out with Nick every day, but the shitty part of having some fame is that they both work quite a bit and their schedules frequently conflict. Nick's got his music of course, but also the Disney stuff, filming and promoting the show, and their movie's sequel, and then he's leaving at the end of July for tour. Logan's got school for another two months or so before graduation, and then he'll go full-tilt into fencing classes and reading scripts. Dozens of them, as his agent keeps pushing things on him to look at, and he accepts them but then his parents remind him of a chemistry test or whatever and so they pile up. He wants to ride the _Percy_ wave for as far as he can, and hopefully start working on something else as soon as _Three Musketeers_ is wrapped. He's still hoping for _Spider-man_ , but it's sort of a weak hope. He'd applied to a few universities and was accepted, but has decided to defer in favour of working for now. He can always go later. 

Okay, no. He _will_ go later.

It's hard enough balancing school and work, and the group of friends he's somehow maintained throughout lengthy breaks from classes to work on movies, and yet Logan doesn't mind shuffling things around to make room for Nick. He's fucking busy, and yet he finds himself making the twenty-minute drive up to Toluca Lake as often as he can. Loafing around the spacious home, watching movies and trading music, enjoying their relative free time between projects. Easy living. Logan's house is just as nice, but it's not nearly as spacious, and with Kevin married and Joe in the process of moving out, it's just Nick and Frankie left with a lot of room left-over. Nick's parents welcome his presence in their home gladly, their nest half-empty.

Figuring out how to tell people just seemed too complicated, so Logan doesn't mention his friendship with Nick to most of his school friends. Most of them have some connection to show business in one way or another, usually their parents rather than themselves, but it'd be too weird to roll up one morning to homeroom and announce that he's got a ridiculously famous new best friend. 

Except, no, best friend is the wrong term for it. Logan wasn't looking for someone to replace Dean. Nick is something altogether separate, and the difference is striking; he feels a spark. They have a strange chemistry, and he can't explain it any better than that.

And he's pretty certain that it's not one-sided.

When Nick has to leave town for an appearance in Washington, Logan spends most of his time underwater, but he doesn't think as much about his heritage as he usually would. 

Instead, he thinks about the way Nick looks at him.

See, Nick sometimes stops and stares at him for a long moment or two, staring like he's trying to work something out. Like Logan is a puzzle. Nick's eyes narrow slightly and Logan feels naked, scrutinized. He has to look away but can still feel Nick's eyes on him. He sometimes has to bite his lip to keep from smiling, and he's not sure why. He likes when Nick looks at him, but really, it makes Logan uncomfortable as well. He thinks back to the letter his parents gave him that insisted that while he appeared normal to humans, he also attracted them unwillingly, and wonders if that was always true. But it doesn't happen often or last long, so he never asks Nick about it, and Nick never says anything. 

But Logan wonders, after another one of these moments, if he'll ever have to tell Nick the truth about who, or rather _what_ , he is.

On top of all that, Logan feels guilty when Dean gets home from college for the summer because by that time he's already hanging out with Nick constantly. He feels like a shitty friend at first, like a kid with a shiny new toy who leaves the old one in the dust. Then again, Dean was the one who decided to go to college on the east coast and abandon him here in the first place, so maybe Logan doesn't feel all that badly about it.

Once or twice he tries to hang out with them at the same time, get them in the same room, but it doesn't feel the same. He wants Nick all to himself and he's not entirely sure why.

Logan hasn't been _avoiding_ Dean, not necessarily, but he definitely starts to feel like an asshole when Dean calls him for the third time to hang out, and he's already over at Nick's place. He lets it go to voicemail, then feels even shittier.

"Hey, let's go out somewhere," he says as casually as he can. "See what people are up to."

Nick looks up from his laptop, and asks the only possible question: "Which people?"

Okay, so it's a little weird that they don't have any friends in common.

Nick folds his laptop closed and suggests they go bowling. Logan fucking _hates_ bowling, but it was at least an activity where they could both invite other people to join.

He texts Dean back, trying to shrug off the lingering guilt of not picking up his calls, and then his brother, and a few kids from school. He'd missed so much of senior year, studying with tutors on set, that it was still a little awkward to scroll through the names of kids he was supposed to be close with, kids with normal lives. He'll be graduating with them, going to all the requisite senior parties, and he's even got a prom date lined up-- experiences that he was, by birth, never supposed to have.

Logan idly wonders if they have proms or even high schools where he's from, and if those dances have bullshit themes as well. He smiles a little at the idea of an "Enchantment ABOVE the Sea" dance. So many questions that he may never have answered.

Nick clears his throat in an obvious 'penny for your thoughts' sort of way, and Logan jumps. 

"Sorry, just thinking of who else I should call." He tries to cover but he knows that Nick knows him better than that by now. It's too weak an excuse. "Uh, I guess my social circle has narrowed pretty significantly over the last few years." He didn't expect to admit that out loud, and yet Logan still finds himself saying "You're probably the first friend I've made outside of work in a long time."

Nick gave him a peculiar sort of half-smile. "I guess I should be flattered."

"Don't be an ass." Logan frowns.

"No, seriously!" It's Nick's turn to make a confession. "I know exactly what you mean. It was getting to the point that I wasn't sure if I could trust anyone's intentions, like, with being a friend or whatever. It sounds so conceited, but we've had people come into our lives who weren't genuine, and it's so cool that you aren't like that."

Logan nods, glad Nick gets it. "Yeah. Like, it's important to have people around you who you can trust with, you know, personal stuff. Nobody who's gonna wind up as some 'anonymous close friend' spreading lies about your life." 

Silence falls between them. 

Nick rolls his shoulders and sits forward, adjusting his stupid backwards baseball cap. "So, bowling?" he asks again, a hopeful tinge to his voice. 

"Yeah, alright." Logan scrolls through his phonebook again, nobody else standing out. Nobody he really wants to share Nick with, anyway. Like Nick might possibly be interested in the girls from his high school. Girls Logan used to like, sometimes still does like when he's daydreaming in class. He reminds himself of the so-called normal life he was just congratulating himself on and sends an invite out to the girl he'd asked to the prom. He looks up at Nick and smiles. "We've gotta be on the same team, though. You'll just kick my ass, otherwise."

Nick nods, knowing it was absolutely true. "Just don't drag down my average, dude. I play to win."

 

+++++

 

There are times when Nick thinks he knows for sure that there's something different about Logan, but it's not something he can put his finger on. It's just this intangible difference that he can sense when they're alone.

At first, Nick just assumes that maybe it's just how Logan is. He's an artist, a real actor. Nick's got a lot of friends who act, but there's a difference between Disney Channel acting and the dramatic and serious roles that Logan has taken on. 

He hopes that Logan will never ask if Nick's seen all the movies he's done, because Nick will definitely have to lie about watching Logan dancing around on-screen in ladies' lingerie. He'd had to shut his laptop really quickly when Frankie came barrelling in at that very point in the movie, and proceeded to badger Nick for a solid ten minutes, asking what he'd been watching and why his face was red. It wasn't even in a teasing way, he just honestly wanted to know, but Nick wasn't going to corrupt his little brother by showing him video of Logan in lacey panties.

Nick's pretty sure none of his Disney colleagues have ever filmed a scene like that.

He scraps the idea when he realizes that it doesn't really explain anything, anyway. Logan being an actor might be the reason why he's sometimes really serious or quiet, but it doesn't explain the way Nick feels drawn in, or the music that he hears. That's the really crazy part. He thought it was just a coincidence at first, or that he was just being inspired by him, but Nick's more and more convinced that he's actually hearing the melody, not just thinking of it when Logan's around.

Even the possibility of being in Logan's presence has messed Nick's life up. He'll know that he's got stuff he needs to be doing, like finishing up his own school-work or practicing songs for the _Camp Rock 2_ tour... but instead, he'll put it all aside to call Logan or see if he'd want to hang out. He'll even get the urge to call him in the middle of the day, when Logan is in school and every logical part of Nick's brain knows that nobody will answer if he called, but he'll absentmindedly reach for the phone all the same.

It's like he can't stop himself.

Nick's parents sat him down and talked to him about it the night before, asking if there was anything they needed to know about their friendship, if Logan was pressuring him to shirk his responsibilities in any way, and the whole thing has made him pretty uncomfortable. He felt like they were accusing him of something when all he was doing was being friends with someone new, someone outside of their usual circle. Nick didn't see anything wrong with that.

When Logan comes over that afternoon, Nick suggests they take Elvis for a walk around the block so he can talk about it without parental ears over-hearing.

They follow the big golden retriever slowly down the street, as Elvis sniffs at every tree, gate and mailbox in the neighbourhood. Logan's always had dogs as well, so he doesn't mind the slow pace of strolling around in the warm afternoon. They talk about maybe meeting up with their dogs at Runyon Canyon sometime, see if they'd all get along. Well, Nick thinks it's a good idea. Logan isn't much of a hiker but he seems pretty game regardless.

Eventually Nick bites the bullet, and changes the subject. "Do you think it's weird? Like, how much we hang out?"

Logan shrugs and glances over at Nick, apparently not fazed by the non sequitur. "I don't think so. I mean, it's not like I see you every day." He pauses, thinking. "I'm still getting everything done that I need to. I think."

Nick doesn't mention the history paper that he has due. He'd forgotten to write it on time, but he'd made some kind of excuse about writing their next big hit single and his mother had given him an extension, and now he's not working on it again. It wasn't like Nick to be this careless about his studies, especially when his correspondence school schedule was so much more relaxed. He scratches at his neck, feeling hot despite the cloudy weather. "Okay. I just, um, wondered."

Before Logan can respond, Elvis spots a squirrel farther down the sidewalk and takes off, jerking the leash, pulling Nick ahead. He breaks into a jog to keep hold of the dog's lead, and Logan runs a little to keep up.

Nick looks back at him and Logan is smiling, watching the scene play out. He's not weirded out by the questions or Nick's concerns, not uncomfortable. Instead, he's laughing a little, relaxed, easy. 

Nick pulls on the leash a little more strongly, trying to rein Elvis back in so Logan can catch up and walk beside them again. Elvis obeys faster than Nick expected and he has to put the brakes on quickly so he doesn't trip over his dog, teetering wildly. Logan's reflexes aren't nearly as quick and he slams into Nick's shoulder, colliding on the sidewalk. Nick, still holding onto the leash with one hand, loses his balance for a second time and finds himself awkwardly half on the ground, half in a neatly trimmed hedgerow.

Logan, however, is sprawled out face-down on the the sidewalk ahead. While Nick dislodges himself from the prickly hedge, Logan is hissing in pain.

"You okay, man?" Nick drops the leash, as Elvis is now worriedly sniffing at Logan's face, squirrel forgotten.

Logan slowly props himself up on his elbows. "Yeah, uh, I'm fine. Caught myself before I smashed my precious face." He rolls over and turns his palms face-up. They're skinned and bleeding. "Minor flesh wound." He stands up carefully, wincing, and putting all his weight on his right side. Nick notices blood running down Logan's left leg.

"Dude, your knee." Nick crouches down and gingerly lifts the edge of Logan's black cargo shorts. It's a mess of torn skin, dirt, bits of grass and too much blood. "Oh, wow. This looks really bad. Like, maybe stitches bad."

Logan leans over, tries to bend it so he can see. "Oh, shit. That's... ow." 

Nick stands up, grabs Elvis's leash again, and nudges Logan's elbow. "Can you walk back? It's just up and around the corner."

Logan nods, and leans a little on Nick, trying not to let his shredded palms bleed on Nick's pristine white polo. In a house of four brothers, Nick's been witness to (and the victim of) plenty of scrapes and spills, but somehow this felt different, with Logan's weight pressed against him. He's all lithe and light, not solid like Nick himself, and hardly a burden. And much less of a whiner than Joe. Logan was biting his lower lip so hard that Nick wouldn't be surprised if he broke the skin, but he didn't complain about the pain that was surely shooting through his leg with every step.

Nick resists the urge to suggest a piggyback ride. Although it'd be faster and easier than the slow and painful walk back to the house, it seemed undignified.

So, Logan limps along beside him, occasionally resting, but mostly just keeping quiet. Nick hustles them along as best he can, taking a shortcut through a friendly neighbour's yard to the back gate, where Nick keys in the code. They'd had girls sneak in through this entrance before and so even now a backyard gate needed amped-up security all the time.

The family had left by the time they reached the house, so Nick goes immediately into nurse mode, bringing out the first aid kit, preparing to clean the cuts on Logan's knee. 

"Try not to bleed on the carpet," Nick suggests as they cross through the house to the kitchen. He heads towards the cupboard for supplies while Logan fumbles a little with the tap, running his hands under the cool water while he waits for Nick. It stings but his palms don't look nearly as bad once all the blood and dust is cleared away. 

Logan shakes his hands dry and holds them up face out from his chest to make sure the bleeding has stopped. He looks like he's waiting to catch a dodge-ball and Nick surprises them both with a laugh, miming a toss.

"Don't throw me anything breakable!" Logan grins. "Unless you want it shattered on the kitchen floor." He flexes his hands a little, and his grin falls a little. "Okay, ow. I don't even know how I'm going to drive myself home with these." Nick presses big Band-Aids over each palm.

"It's a good thing your car isn't stick-shift, at least. Your hands might be okay, but I don't think you could work the clutch with that leg." Nick nudges him towards a chair and Logan sits with Nick kneeling down in front of him, studying his knee. 

Nick wishes his mom was here, that she could take care of Logan, but then Logan gives him a lopsided smile and mumbles "Thanks for this." and immediately Nick's confidence is renewed. 

Logan clenches his teeth and swears creatively when the cold cloth touches his skin. It's better than the sting of iodine, at least, but Nick still feels guilty, says "sorry" instead of "language", even though it needs to be done. He swipes carefully at the cut, biting his own lip hard, knowing how much it must hurt. He's not squeamish, at least. Sticking himself with needles all the time has gotten Nick quite comfortable with blood, but he's definitely not cut out for a career as a doctor. Too sympathetic.

The cut on Logan's knee isn't as bad as he'd originally thought, thank God, now that it isn't covered in bits of debris from the sidewalk. He works carefully to get every blade of grass clipping, every bit of dirt, until the wound is clean. It stopped bleeding for the most part, and Nick smooths another large adhesive bandage over the cut. He hesitates, resists the urge to jokingly "kiss it better" like he might with one of his brothers.

But rather than get up and put everything away, Nick glances up at Logan from his position on the floor. His face is blank, eyes closed and mouth slightly open. Nick can't seem to move away. He's got Logan under his hands, quiet and somehow just completely appealing to Nick in a way that he never thought was possible.

Nick clutches the wet facecloth in one hand, dropping his eyes to Logan's knee again, and the line of blood that had run down his leg and into Logan's sock. Nick turns to an unused corner of the cloth and presses it to Logan's shin, humming quietly to himself the song that he can't quite work out. 

_The Logan song_ , he thinks. It's louder than usual, it might as well be playing on the stereo in the room, it's that hard to ignore.

He moves slowly, running the damp cloth up and down Logan's leg. He works his way down towards Logan's ankle, getting into a rhythm, making small circles. But when he reaches the thin skin near the ankle bone, Logan jerks his leg away, breaking the spell. 

Nick snaps to attention, face burning. "Sorry, oh, um..." What the hell was he doing?

Logan is blushing, too, eyes open now. "No, it was, uh. I'm really ticklish there, that's all. It was nice, though." He leans forward slowly, but Nick is already moving, standing, gathering things into the first aid kit again and crumpling up the trash from the Band-Aids. The moment is gone. 

 

Logan sometimes thinks having legs can kind of suck, like when he realizes that his skin is basically a layer of tissue paper, so easily torn by something as stupid as a patch of sidewalk. But there is absolutely nothing like the sensation of someone touching you unexpectedly. 

Nick's hands on Logan's leg, prolonged contact between the two of them that definitely went beyond what Logan would have ever expected to come up in an afternoon walk around the neighbourhood. Nick humming quietly, focused on Logan's skin. In that moment, Logan loves skin and legs and shin bones and all those little nerve endings. Pressure points, friction and sensitive areas. Human contact. 

Human. Logan is liking seeming human today.

Except, well, he's not. Not really, not at the heart of it all. And what Logan doesn't tell Nick is that all he really needed right then was a ride to the nearest beach. 

Logan has to basically go on guess-work and he still has plenty to learn about what powers his people have, but one thing that he has learned quite accidentally is the healing qualities of salt water. 

Historically, it had gotten some hype, such as the super-salty Dead Sea or the practice of "taking the water" in a Roman bath. But, as far as Logan can determine, those are really more homeopathic remedies for humans, whereas for merfolk, apparently, it was just standard health-care. They were surrounded by water all the time, so they're naturally healed just as soon as they're injured. He might have legs, but water still had the same effect. Cuts, scrapes, even blemishes-- Logan was proud to say that he was probably the only guy in his senior class to have flawless skin. A quick swim in the ocean after his crash-landing on the sidewalk, and he would have healed immediately.

But there was no way to explain that to Nick, not without giving away his secret. He allowed Nick to clean and bandage his knee, which pleasantly turned into something a little more than your average patch-up. But rather than take his usual route back to Beverly Hills, Logan heads to the nearest public strip of coastline, kicks off his shoes and socks, peels off the Band-aids, and wades into the ocean.

It isn't magic and it isn't science. It's just the way, he supposes, they've evolved. Merfolk managing to survive in modern times despite dangerous propellers and drills couldn't have happened with just luck and cleverness. The water sustains them, cures them, heals them. Logan might look like a human and walk like a human, but he is still a merman, and he still needs the water to survive nearly as much as any other aquatic mammal. The _3:10 to Yuma_ shoot was painfully dry, out in the desert of New Mexico for weeks, and his occasional dips in the Rio Grande on off-days were no substitution for the Pacific. He likes to think that it informed his performance, though: desperate and frustrated.

He even puts a bandage back on, just in case, so that he can avoid any questions about how the cut is healing the next time he and Nick hang out. But all that's left is a tiny scar, and maybe also the memory of how Nick's eyebrows knitted with concentration and concern before Logan's eyes slipped shut. Even the scar will be gone after another swim, but Nick's wrapt, careful expression... Logan would love to see that again.

Logan wouldn't go out of his way to hurt himself and let Nick play doting nurse for him again, but he thinks about it, just once or twice, his skin still tingling from phantom touches.

 

+++++

 

Joe comes home one Saturday morning and pulls Nick aside, holding out his iPhone.

"Dude, I know you don't usually look at this garbage, but Perez has a picture of you and this Logan kid making moon-eyes at each other." His face is unusually serious. "Is there, uh, anything going on I should know about?"

Nick takes the phone from his brother, and says nothing. His natural reaction should be to deny: 'absolutely not', 'what the hell', 'Logan is a boy who is my friend, not my boyfriend', or even just 'no!'... but instead he sits there, brow furrowed, staring at the small pixellated image on Joe's phone. 

The picture does kind of look pretty gay. They were strolling along the sidewalk eating dishes of frozen yogurt, rather than doing something super manly like extreme sports or driving some pimped-out SUV. He and Logan with little hearts drawn around their heads, and some lame caption about them being young lovers on a date. He doesn't read on, but Nick assumes that it's peppered with jokes about purity rings and maybe something rude about Selena. 

Date. Date. Logan had legitimately been his totally-platonic plus-one to the Disney's _Oceans_ premiere a few weeks previous, but that was just because of, you know, how they'd met, so it was funny and Logan seemed to spend a lot of time at the beach. Nick thought that Logan'd like it, so why wouldn't he invite him? 

Except, nobody saw them together at that event. Nick had had to walk the carpet, whereas Logan skipped the press-line, not wanting to talk about _Spider-man_ rumors, and really having nothing else to promote. They met up inside. 

Now there's this.

Joe waits patiently for Nick to react, arms folded. Nick knows that Joe would probably wait like that for hours, despite his usual energy, because he'd sensed that this was important.

Nick knows he has to say something, but continues, for whatever reason, to avoid the obvious denial. Finally the right response comes to him. Deflect. "What did you do in this situation, when they said this about you?" Joe has had his share of blogs spread rumours about his sexuality, about he and his friend Martin, but Martin was publicly out, and to Nick's knowledge, none of those rumours had been founded in anything else. Joe wasn't in love with Martin, and as far as Nick knew, he isn't attracted to men. He's with Demi, and they seem pretty solid.

"Just ignore it." Joe smiles, leans down from his perch on the arm of the couch, bracing an arm on Nick's shoulder, and tries to keep his tone light. "Little brother, they're going to be jerks either way. What matters most is that you don't let it affect your friendship. They're just pictures, and not even very interesting ones. Don't acknowledge them." But his smile fades quickly, and Joe looks worried again.

Nick sighs. "No sense in panicking, then."

"Nope. Just wanted you to know what's out there about you guys." Joe pauses for a moment. "Do you need to call Logan and tell him?"

"He's in training, I think. I'll text him." He's stalling. Nick has no idea what he'd even say. _Hey bro, you sure do look like you wanna kiss me in this picture online. Isn't that hilarious?_

Except, huh. It's not really all that funny when Logan totally _does_ look like he wants to kiss him, which is kind of surprising. Nick didn't notice him looking that way in the moment.

Nick briefly wonders what he would've said or done if he had.

Joe stands up, stretching out his arms in the way that people do when they want to casually end a conversation. "Alright, well, if you have any, uh, questions or whatever... we can talk about it. I won't tell mom and dad."

Oh, so Joe doesn't believe him. Nick should have protested, should have reacted reacted more strongly. Not in an offended or hurtful way, but, you know. At all.

"Joe, I'm not. I mean, Logan and I aren't." He trips on his words, trying to get them out before Joe left and took this idea with him. "He's just a friend."

Joe nods, moving towards the door. "Okay, Nick. I get it."

The first thing Nick does when Joe leaves the room is open his laptop. He goes directly to the post, and saves the picture (full size) to a buried folder. The same folder where he saved all of those pictures Miley had taken on her cell phone for him, which he sometimes thinks about deleting, considering how young they were when she'd taken them. She'd always been a little too far ahead of Nick, but it certainly had been... educational.

He looks at the picture of him and Logan again, bites his lip, then closes it just as quickly. Opens it again. He stares at the image, scrutinizing Logan's face. Even blown up to full screen, it gives no clues. Nick looks at it juxtaposed against the other thumbnails. Wonders how many girls had sent Logan pictures like that. Logan went to public school, knew a lot of girls. How is he even single? Ugh, he needs to talk to him.

Then Nick sits with his phone in his hand for a full five minutes, debating on how he should broach the subject. Laugh it off, as was his first inclination? Take it seriously? Or say anything at all? He tucks his phone back into his pocket with some level of frustration and sighs, walking out of his bedroom towards the music room. 

He still needs to work on that song. 

 

At noon, Nick gets into his truck and drives down to the gym where Logan's been training with a fencing expert for a few hours every weekend. He finds a parking space near the door, fidgets for a minute, then digs out his phone.

'Come outside if u can,' he texts.

He doesn't get a reply, but a few agonizing minutes later, Logan appears at the door of the gym, a backpack slung over one shoulder, with his hair wet from the shower and face still glowing pink from the exercise. 

Nick's nervous and he's not sure why. He honks the horn quickly and waves. Logan's whole face lights up and suddenly Nick also feels incredibly stupid.

Stupid for being afraid to text.

Stupid for worrying.

Stupid for showing up unannounced like some kind of psycho-stalker.

Logan reaches the passenger-side door and jumps in. "Hey man, what's up?"

Nick stumbles for a moment, and falls on the old 'I was driving by and thought you might be hungry' excuse. "Lunch?"

Logan doesn't let on whether he believes it or not, but quickly agrees to food. "I've gotta be back in an hour, though." Like Nick was planning on kidnapping him for the afternoon.

Nick turns the ignition, pulls out of the space and into the busy road. He's not even sure where he's going, still doesn't really know L.A. well enough to drive on his own. They'd always had their parents or Big Rob or someone else drive them around so it was a miracle Nick even got his license, really. He wonders how people made their way around before GPS.

It's really a comfortable silence, but Logan pokes at the radio regardless, fiddling with the buttons and not finding anything either of them particularly enjoy. He's quieter than usual, and Nick immediately worries that Logan thinks he's creepy for showing up in the middle of a 'work' day. Paranoid, he casts around his mind for a safe topic of conversation, but Logan speaks up first.

"So," and he draws it out, holding his O until he's sure he has Nick's attention (like it was possible for him not to), "my sister texted me. She said there was some stuff about us online." Oh God, he knows. "Guess that makes us official, hey?"

Nick could feel his face growing warm. He releases his grip on ten-and-two to nudge the air conditioning higher. "Officially what?"

"You know, Friends. Capital F. We've been 'spotted together' by the press." The air quotes are implied by his voice, but his tone remains warm, casual. "Our big secret is out of the bag."

Nick frowned. "Secret?"

"Us being friends! It's out there!"

"Uh, so you haven't actually seen the post? Lindsey didn't tell you what it looks like?"

"She made fun of me for eating Pinkberry instead of actually ice cream, if that's what you mean."

"No, it's..." Nick wasn't expecting to have to _describe_ it. He merges lanes and pulls in to an In N' Out parking lot. He maneuvers the truck into a space, cuts the engine and turns to look at Logan. He's gotta say it. "Perez said that we're dating. He drew little hearts."

"Oh." Logan's eyes went wide. "Oh, dude, that's... awesome. I mean, that's a new one for me!"

Not the reaction he was expecting. "It doesn't bother you?" he asks, cautious. Nick was feeling stupider by the second. Of course Logan wouldn't be bothered by it. He's too cool for that, and not in an annoying way. Ugh.

Logan raises his eyebrows slightly at the edge of panic in Nick's voice. "Not really. I mean, it was probably gonna be said by someone eventually. We have been spending a lot of time together, we've been going out and doing stuff. It's impossible to be close with anyone in this business without bullshit rumours like that getting started." He wiggles his eyebrows, adding "Especially with two young, attractive, single guys like us who aren't, you know, out acting like total douchebags."

Nick's stomach does a weird flip-flop, and he runs his hands through his hair, too embarrassed to speak. _He thinks I'm attractive?_

Logan shrugs, grins cheekily, and reaches for the door handle. "Don't worry about it, Nick. Just buy me a cheeseburger and we'll both pretend you didn't drive all the way downtown to apparently _not_ talk about this." And with that, he jumps out of the truck, leaving Nick blushing behind the steering wheel.

"Damn." He scrambles out and follows Logan inside. "Damn, damn, damn."

 

Later that night, Logan's lying in bed and thinking about how stupidly easy it could have been to accidentally say something incriminating to Nick, but he didn't so he's proud of how he handled it. It's curious that Logan considers his nautical past to be the major secret that he's keeping from Nick, when there's also the small matter of his bisexuality that he hasn't exactly brought up in conversation.

Now, it's not that he thinks that Nick would drop him as a friend, or that it would negate anything they'd shared about past experiences or anything (although neither of them offered up much in the way of details-- Logan out of self-consciousness, Nick out of what Logan could determine was a combination of gentlemanly discretion and possibly a lack of much to brag about.) And he hadn't really left anything out when it came to rehashing actual relationships or lied to Nick, 'cause Logan's never had a legit for-real boyfriend. But he'd fooled around with a couple of guys at parties in the past, and sometimes he'd been drunk but not always.

Logan isn't ashamed of it, but he also hasn't told his family, who would all be totally fine with it. Hell, they'd probably assume it was another part of his merman thing, and there wouldn't even be a discussion. And he's not even certain that the two things _aren't_ related. But Logan doesn't feel comfortable really labelling himself yet, either. Or, apparently, talking openly about it with a new friend. Yet.

Really, he's just avoided all talk of drunken high school exploits in general, sensing that that sort of debauchery isn't Nick's thing, and it might make him uncomfortable. Besides, it's not like Logan's some kind of crazy partier, but he's always been very mature for his age, evidently thanks in some small part to his marine biology, and the combination of going to school in Beverly Hills and being on set with cast-mates sometimes twice his age meant that he'd had access to stuff that some kids, home-schooled religious Disneyfied kids, might not have.

He was put on land to enjoy himself and have a better life, right?

So when Nick started to panic about that picture online, Logan was glad he hadn't said anything. But, holy fuck, did he ever want that to be his window of opportunity. To smile charmingly and say "Oops! Looks like they totally caught me undressing you with my mind. Sorry, bro!" Nick would've been off like a shot, stranding him at the In 'N Out. So he kept his mouth shut.

Not that Logan was anything less than genuine in their friendship. That was the shitty part. He wanted to tell Nick about that stuff, to be totally open and honest like he could always be with Dean (well, about most things-- merfolk past aside), but he also didn't want it to be awkward between them. And Dean wasn't someone he'd told intentionally, either. He'd walked in on some emo-haired junior boy sucking Logan's dick at a house party over the holidays. He'd caught Logan's eye, nodded approvingly, and walked out again. When Dean left to go back to school in January, they hadn't talked about it, but that was all there was to it.

Come to think of it, that's probably why Dean was being so cool about being blown off all the time. He probably assumed that he and Nick had something going on. Goddamn Dean Collins making assumptions and not saying a word.

Basically Logan liked Nick a lot, but that didn't necessarily immediately translate into Logan _like_ -liking him, and he didn't want to risk Nick not understanding the difference. Well, okay, that wasn't exactly the truth and Logan knew it, he knew it every time Nick smiled at him or sent him a funny text or elbowed him in the ribs. Logan like-liked Nick fucking Jonas, but that didn't mean it had to change anything. 

Logan still wanted the friendship they've quickly mashed together over the last two months, and he didn't want to be the one responsible for fucking that up just because he'd made out with a couple of guys well before they'd met... and okay, maybe this one drunk guy in particular who looked like Nick at this one especially crazy party a few weekends back. They'd ended up groping each other behind the garden shed, but really only for a few minutes, and then Logan just felt weird about it. He didn't even ask for the guy's number.

Considering all the other secrets he was keeping, it was all pretty stupid, really.

 

+++++

 

Nick doesn't know what to do about what he now thinks of as The Nicole Problem. 

She's a genuinely nice girl, she's pretty, she's a good friend. And it's not even like he's not into her. Nicole's great! Why wouldn't he date her? She's totally girlfriend material!

But try as he might, he can't talk himself into it. Nick is not interested in dating her, he's not feeling the spark, although it's becoming increasingly clear that she is interested in him. They're basically seeing each other already, but Nick doesn't know hot to stop it without hurting her feelings. She's a co-worker, and if he screws things up, he'll still have to face her on set every day. But now spending time together outside of work has somehow spiraled into inviting herself places with him, and so sweetly that he can't say no. She's coming along to Kevin's _Minute to Win It_ taping next week, having quickly snapped up the ticket when Joe said he couldn't make it, and now they're totally on a double-date with Joe and Demi. He hadn't actually even asked her out, it just seemed to have happened.

He should want this. He tells himself that he should want the attention of the media focused on him on dates with girls, attractive real live girls and not on alleged dates with Logan. He should want it to look real but dammit, he doesn't want to actually _be_ real. He'd eventually have to kiss her or be alone with Nicole and honestly, that wouldn't be so bad. She's a good kisser. They'd filmed it, she was into it, and it looked good-- but it was getting cut for some ridiculous Disney version of the antiquated Hays Code. He could probably make it look real again. But he doesn't want it to be.

Nick pokes at the food on his plate, fretting about what the difference really is between dating someone publicly, in pictures on the internet and in gossip articles, and actually getting feelings involved. Nicole would never understand.

The internet is already coming up with a name-smush. He needs to nip this in the bud.

Honestly, he could deal with it more easily before, he's typically an upfront and honest sort of guy, but now he's distracted. It would all be manageable if Nick could stop thinking about what Logan was likely doing every other minute, what he'd think about the food, or what movie they could be watching instead of this evening of sometimes insipid conversation. Demi and Nicole are comparing names of people in bands they both know, bands Nick knows little about, and they're making plans to go to Warped tour together later in the summer. Joe looks vaguely interested, even though everyone at the table knows that Demi's skirting around the topic of her ex, Alex. Nobody is paying attention to Nick, so he texts Logan under the table. 

'rescue me? farfalla in los feliz'

What the hell is wrong with him? Nick's never been this taken by a new friend. A guy friend, anyway, and thank goodness there are movies about this now and he can throw around words like 'bromance' without feeling all that uncomfortable. He should write Paul Rudd a thank you letter.

It takes Logan a few minutes to respond and in that time Nick considers adding a second text, but he can't decide between a 'just kidding, lol' and 'i thought ur job was to save my life, hero' but before he can tap out either one, he gets the reply he'd been hoping for:

'be there in 20, stall/eat dessert if ur allowed'

The hardest part is making his escape. Joe had driven him there, but Nicole had offered to drive him home afterwards so Demi and Joe could go back to his new place alone. Awkward. And even then, he probably could have done it easily enough except there were photographers waiting for them outside. He could only hope that nobody would get pissed at him for taking off, and more importantly, nobody would get a shot of him walking away from his obviously-a-date to leave with Logan instead. That wouldn't help.

He's not afraid of being seen with Logan, but he's afraid of the headlines: "Nick Jonas dumps co-star for 'Percy Jackson'!" "Nick Jonas ruins otherwise lovely evening for everyone!" "Nick Jonas is such an asshole!"

Nick struggles to come up with a legitimate excuse to leave, but finally he makes something up about Logan winning tickets to some midnight early showing of _Exit Through the Gift Shop_. They'd tried to get tickets, so it wasn't a total lie, he supposes. He has fewer qualms about leaving the group once he spots Logan's car waiting just inside the Citibank's parking lot across the street. Demi and Joe are up ahead and he can hear them giggling about something. Nick tries to make small talk as he and Nicole lag behind, but he can tell she's annoyed that he's leaving early. He asks about her car, how long it would take to get fixed. She'd been broken into recently, window smashed in, and was driving a rental. She mumbled something about getting it back soon and Nick just feels like a jerk for making her drive home alone.

Once they reach the little lot, he stands around long enough to chat, hug, and hope that Nicole's feelings aren't hurt too badly by him ditching her. Joe and Demi say their goodnights and they all try to ignore the photographers as best they can, going their separate ways. 

Of course, Nick feels worse about lying when it's to his mom, who he dutifully calls halfway to Logan's car. "I'm going to a midnight movie with Logan tonight, is it okay if I just stay over at his place rather than drive home late?" 

She's okay with it, asks how dinner was, how's Nicole, don't forget to check his levels and, remember they have that Radio Disney thing in the morning so be home early. He can't get off the phone fast enough, but he hastily hangs up and jumps into the passenger seat beside Logan, who greets him with a "Nice threads." The nice navy pinstripe suit Nick wore to dinner makes him feel incredibly over-dressed when he sees Logan relaxing in black jeans and a well-worn t-shirt. "I don't even think my suit for prom is even that nice." 

Nick sighs and sinks back into the seat. "Thanks for coming. I hope you don't have plans because I'm inviting myself over."

Logan raises an eyebrow but offers a smile all the same, not asking questions. He just starts the car. "I guess we'll hit the 7-11 on the way home, then?"

Nick checks the time then realizes he has no idea how late stores are actually stay open. "Is like, Target still open? The one in WeHo is on the way, sort of. I can't exactly sleep in my suit."

He notices Logan clench his jaw, lips taut, and even in profile, Nick can tell that Logan is swallowing some kind of wise crack. "What?"

"I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking something, though."

Logan rolls his eyes and smirks. "Oh yeah? What are you, psychic? What was I about to say?"

Nick leans back against the headrest and closes his eyes. "I don't know, man. Something about me wanting to 'slip into something more comfortable'?" He intones the last part quite saucily, and Logan cracks up.

"You said it, not me!"

"But you were thinking it! It's all over your face!"

Logan slows the vehicle as they approach a red light, and turns to look at Nick. "In that case, Mr. Jonas, why bother with pyjamas at all?" He winks suggestively, and they laugh even harder.

But in a cobwebby corner of his mind, Nick's also thinking that Logan makes an interesting point.

 

They end up watching a movie, of course. But rather than stopping at a department store for Nick to randomly buy new pyjamas at ten o'clock on a Thursday night, he just borrows a t-shirt and basketball shorts from Lucas. Logan is too slender for anything of his to fit Nick, but when Logan suggests Nick borrow from his brother, he substitutes the word "scrawny" when describing himself and looks sheepish, which Nick thinks is ridiculous. 

He excuses himself to the washroom to change, and to quickly check his blood sugar. Logan knows all about his diabetes, but it's not something he needs an audience for.

Logan's parents are still up and watching something in the den, so instead they crowd together on the bed in his room, facing the TV with a bowl of popcorn between them. Nick stretches out and allows the evening's awkwardness with Nicole to fade quickly from memory. Logan is sitting up, back straight and drinking tea from a large mug, deeply entranced by whatever movie it was he'd put in. Nick wasn't sure. Something he'd Netflixed.

They've spent very little time at the Lerman house in the short time they've known each other, but Nick likes it here. Logan's bedroom walls are lined with shelves of movies and books, like he lives in a library. If Nick looked a little more carefully, he'd notice that several of those shelves held books in a particular theme: dusty tomes on the myths of Atlantis, a bunch of atlases, well-worn children's books about mermaids and water sprites, and newer paperbacks from small printing presses, collected works of academic papers on mythology and journal articles dissecting oceanic folklore. But Nick is too tired to peruse the titles, so Logan doesn't need to use a prepared excuse.

Perhaps it's because Nick's spent so much of his life on a tour bus, or moving from state to state, house to house, that to be tucked up under a microfleece blanket in the room where Logan grew up, Nick feels safe. Not that he doesn't feel safe in his own home or whatever, but it's just... comfortable. It's a house that feels lived in.

And yet, Nick can't relax. 

Something about being in his personal space and so close to Logan, just inches away, is giving Nick a headache. Not that it's painful, it's just that his mind is full, too full, of this song, this melody, the same one that he'd been humming absently for weeks. He could have sat at the opposite end of the bed, and instead they're both crowded in the middle, as though drawn in by some gravitational force. He'd had his doubts about it before, but Nick was becoming more certain that the song was actually coming from Logan himself. He was the source and the cause all in one. It was irresistible.

Nick has no idea what the movie is about. It was all he could do to focus on not humming out loud, or grabbing the notebook in his brown leather satchel to try to capture the music on paper. It's getting clearer, more defined, less of a jumbled mess of notes and vague feelings or impressions of the sound.

Logan finishes his tea, sets his mug aside, stretches out his legs. He slouches back a little against the pillows, coming down to Nick's level, and kicking Nick's right leg lightly in the process.

Nick's whole body shakes from the sudden contact, skin-on-skin, like he's been dozing without realizing and has been jolted awake.

"Sorry," Logan mumbles, eyes still glued to the TV. "Are my feet that cold?"

He feels a weird tug in his belly, and Nick doesn't trust his voice to answer, but jerks a corner of his own blanket over to cover Logan's bare feet. 

Logan, finally turning from the movie, takes this as an invitation and playfully yanks the whole blanket off Nick. He spreads it out onto himself. "Thanks!"

"Hey!" Nick squawks, and grabs the edge, pulling it back over. "See if I share with you again."

Logan is grinning and pulling himself up on his elbows. "You're too nice, Nick. You'll always share with me."

"Nuh-uh. Not after that stunt." 

Logan looks down at Nick and sticks his lower lip out in a ridiculous puppy-dog face. "Come on. I'm sharing with _you_ , aren't I?"

Nick blinks. "Are you?"

Logan stares at him for a second. "My bed, dude. I mean, unless you were planning on sleeping on the cold floor. Not gonna lie, I haven't swept in awhile."

Nick honestly hadn't even thought about it in those terms. He'd gotten as far as hanging out and watching movies all night in his mind, but hadn't really considered the part where he'd be sharing a bed with a guy who wasn't his brother. 

They weren't kids anymore, so sleepovers are a little different. No _Power Rangers_ pyjamas or sleeping-bags rolled out on the living-room carpet. 

Somehow it just seems scandalous, and Nick's mind flicks back to how carried away he'd gotten with cleaning up Logan's cut-up knee. How he'd gotten so sucked into the motions and being close to Logan. How Logan had looked that day from Nick's perspective, kneeling in front of him. Nick's dick twitches a little and he frowns. "Your parents won't mind?"

"Um, it's already like midnight. I'm pretty sure they know you're up here for the night." Then, Nick thinks almost as an afterthought, Logan adds: "And that you're not a girl."

No. No, he isn't. And neither is Logan. Nick is very aware of this.

 

When the movie ends, the tussle over blankets ends as well, as they both end up between the sheets. Logan's bed is large enough that they've both got adequate space, but Nick still feels incredibly close. 

Logan knows that, in the darkness and quiet of the room, it would probably be the appropriate time to confess his attraction to Nick, but also recognizes that it would most likely _not_ work out in his favour (i.e., passionate blow-jobs for all-- Logan nearly groans aloud at the thought.) He almost feels like some kind of predator for letting Nick unwittingly share a bed with someone who wants in his pants, but telling him would probably mean he'd get uncomfortable and leave, and Logan was too tired and too selfish to drive Nick all the way home at this hour.

Nick yawns and hugs his pillow, and Logan wonders if the sheets smell like him, and whether Nick notices if they do. He feels like a shitty host for not even changing them to a clean set, although it's not as if Nick exactly gave him time to wash and press the linens before announcing his intention to come over and sleep beside him. At least his brother had clean clothes to lend Nick, because Logan couldn't imagine Nick trying to fit into something of his.

Well, he can, but the thought of Nick in a shirt that tight was more comical than sexy. He would've been better off not wearing anything at all.

Logan grins stupidly into the darkness at the idea, and mentally curses Lucas for conveniently being Nick's size. Well, back to being a half-assed host. "Um, wake me if you need anything?"

Nick just mumbles a sleepy "'kay, goodnight" in return and he's quiet and facing away before Logan can second-guess his decision not to say anything.

Lying just inches apart from Nick's warm body, hearing his breathing slow, Logan tries to keep his skin from tingling, feels his dick getting hard anyway, and clenches his hands tightly to keep from touching himself. Jerking himself off with Nick less than a foot away would not be very good manners.

Except, ugh, he can't help it. Logan rolls away on his side, shoving his left hand into his pyjamas and wrapping a loose fist around himself. He stays silent, doesn't let himself move the way he does when he's alone, just long soft strokes with the 'wrong' hand until he becomes too paranoid about the bed shaking or the motion or soft sounds waking Nick. Logan bites his lip and forces his eyes closed, trying to will his body back under control. 

He sleeps but his dreams are full of Nick. Nick's mouth, Nick's hands, Nick being totally enthusiastically okay with everything.

The next morning, Logan's alarm clock goes off earlier than usual and his first words of the day are confused and colourful swears. He has training again in a few hours, but he swiftly remembers he's not alone in the bed. He has to drive Nick home so he can change before meeting up with his brothers for a radio thing. And as far as he knows, he got through the night without spooning Nick, moaning his name or playing grab-ass in his sleep. He hopes, anyway.

Nick squints into the morning sun just starting to filter into the room, clearly not normally an early riser, and his hair is uncharacteristically unkempt. But when he looks at Logan, he smiles sleepily, and Logan once again feels the familiar wave of a helpless, unchecked crush.

 

+++++

 

Weeks pass and Nick finds himself trying to play the piece of underwater music on the piano, on the guitar, the tambourine-- whatever instrument he picks up. At first, he's only absently humming the parts he knows best, but the melody has been getting stronger, now that he's spending more and more time with Logan, especially when he's standing really close, but Nick doesn't know why. It's not just lingering in the back of his head, like it has been for the last 13 years. It's on his mind constantly, and he sits for hours at the keys, trying to find the right notes, but it's like pieces of the story are missing. 

It's a hot day in mid-June when he slams the lid on the keys, eyebrows knitted in frustration, and Nick caves in.

'can u come over? i need ur help.' He texts Logan, thumbs mashing the keys harder than usual.

Logan replies almost immediately: 'sure. with what?'

'a song.'

'lol, seriously?'

'yes. plz come over ASAP.'

 

It's becoming clear to Nick that Logan is already quite used to making himself at home with the Jonas family refrigerator. He grabs an apple for himself, holding it between his teeth like a roast pig at a luau, and pulls out the filtered water pitcher. "So, what's this song you need help with?" he lisps around the apple. His voice sounds amused, but it was hard for Nick to tell if he was smiling. Logan opens a cupboard, pulling out two glasses, and fills them with ice from the dispenser on the fridge door.

"It's a mental block. I need some help getting through."

Logan releases the apple from his teeth with a large bite, chewing thoughtfully. "And naturally you ask me, probably your least-musical friend?"

"I thought you might be," Nick pauses, knowing just how cheesy his next word would sound, "inspirational? And besides, you've got a band; you're hardly unmusical."

"A shitty band."

"You were not. I found your myspace page. You had some interesting ideas."

"Interesting is friend-code for shitty, Mr. Grammy Nominated." He takes another bite of apple. "Anyway, I'll do my best." Logan grins, and Nick maybe notices how great that looks when it's a genuine smile, not his typical are-you-kidding-me smirk.

It's warm in the kitchen and the condensation is already building on the side of the glass before Logan could even put the pitcher away. He turns to pass the second glass of water to Nick, and their fingers touch briefly. From the tiny brush of skin, the music blares suddenly though Nick's head like an iPod left with the volume up to the max, paused, unpaused to a jolt of noise, and quickly paused again. 

Nick drops the slippery glass in surprise, and it splashes and shatters on the hard kitchen tile. 

Logan bends down to help pick up the larger shards of glass, and Nick stops him, grabs his hand. The music crashes over him like a wave. He feels faint and nearly keels over.

"Whoa." Logan pulls his hand back, and reaches out to steady Nick by his shoulders, keeping him from stepping forward into the sharp mess on the floor in front of him. The song is still there, but buzzing now, barely audible. "Dude, are you alright? Is it, like, your blood sugar? Should I call someone?"

"I'm fine." It comes out low, quiet. It only takes Nick a moment to realize that he's about to sound like a crazy person, but he maintains control of his voice. "You don't-- you can't hear that?"

"Um," Logan pauses a moment to listen for whatever he's missing. "I think someone is mowing a lawn down the street?"

"No, the music." Nick stares hard into Logan's eyes. "When you touch me." Logan's cheeks redden, but Nick's too excited about hearing the song in his head so clearly to tease him about it properly. "I don't mean that in the romantic, figurative sense, you jerk. I actually _hear music_." 

Logan drops his gaze to the floor, studying the patterns made by the shards of glass. "Oh. That." His face is burning now. "Fuck, Nick, you aren't supposed to hear that." Nick flinches a little at the foul language, as Logan crouches carefully on the kitchen tile, dropping the larger pieces of glass into what remained of the now-empty tumbler. "You should get a broom or a Swiffer or something, before anyone walks in here."

"Don't change the subject." Nick's words come out sharper than he intended but Logan doesn't acknowledge it.

"We need to mop."

"What just happened, dude? What the heck?!" Nick hunkers down until he's level with Logan again, catches his eye. "Come on, you have to tell me. That music has been stuck in my head for as long as I can remember."

"That's impossible." Logan shakes his head. "You must be mistaken."

"No. Seriously." Nick pushes the brown curls out of his eyes. "Like, since I was really little. I could never figure out what it was, or where I'd heard it. I always kinda thought it was from a movie I saw when I was a kid, but that didn't make any sense. I would've been able to find it again, someone would have recognized it. I mean, I'd almost forgotten about it, until I met you."

Logan sits back on his heels, tipping his head back against the dishwasher and sighs. "I can't believe this is happening right now." He looks sideways over at Nick, still crouched beside him, waiting for him to continue. "Okay, that's... I'm not sure how..." Logan shakes his head, embarrassed. "Nick, I think that song is how my people seduce humans."

He somehow skips the 'seduce' part and jumps right to: "Your 'people'?" Nick's face bears a puzzled expression. "Like, Jewish people?"

Logan snorts, and the laugh surprises both boys. The tension passes out of the room. "No, I'm not, well, my family is and guess I was _raised_ that way, but no. I mean, um, merfolk."

Nick raises his eyebrows.

"Mermaids," Logan continues, "and mermen." 

"Um."

Logan reaches up to the counter and grabs his all-but-forgotten apple, taking another large bite. With his mouth full, he explains somewhat hastily, words coming out in a jumbled, apple-crunchy rush. "They're real and have been around for a long time, like thousands of years or maybe longer, and there are some living right here in California," he swallows his bite of the fruit, "and I'm one of them. A merman, but with like, legs."

"Oh." Nick thinks about it for a minute, then asks, half-heartedly, already knowing the answer: "Are you, like, preparing for another _Percy_ movie right now? Is this that method acting thing?"

"No." With a softer smile than usual, Logan collects his thoughts and absently wishes he'd had time to rehearse this speech, but it isn't really something he'd planned on telling someone he only met a few months ago. But, then again, telling his family had been easy enough, and they've been really accepting, so maybe this would work out fine?

"Nicholas Jonas, I'm a merman. I was born somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. I was sent to land by my parents when I was really young because they thought I might be a good actor apparently. Kind of bullshit parenting, the ultimate stage-mom move, but that's all I really know about it." The more he talks, the more emphatic his gestures get, and he almost loses grip on his apple. "I was given legs where my tail should be, and after being discovered alone on a beach, I went through foster care and was adopted by the Lermans, my family, which I acknowledge is a pretty unlikely last name, considering." Logan stops short, for fear of tripping over his words. "So. Yeah." He takes a breath, and adds quickly: "Also, I'm bi and am sometimes into guys. Like, you." 

There. All of his cards on the table.

Nick doesn't say anything at first, he just picks absently at the glass still scattered on the floor. He clears his throat. "That's cool, I guess." Something in his voice tells Logan that Nick's not remotely convinced about the merfolk thing, and apparently is going to ignore that last part. But then something seems to dawn on him. "You're trying to seduce me?" The corner of his mouth turns up slightly, but he doesn't meet Logan's eyes.

"I didn't realize I was even doing that!" Logan chuckles, shrugs his shoulders. "It's not something I really know how to control yet, but I haven't caused any shipwrecks, so that's a start?"

"Not gonna lie, you're pretty strange." Nick stands up, and steps gingerly over the puddle of water and glass. "We'd better clean this up." He tosses Logan a roll of paper towels. "You've got a song to help me with."

 

Twenty minutes later, they're sitting in the music room. It's a beautiful space at the back of the split-level house with big sunny windows and comfy couches, and instruments strewn all over, including a baby grand. Logan looks uncertain of what exactly he's meant to be doing here. He's not completely untalented. He can kind of play a few of these instruments, but not the way that Nick-the-wunderkind can. He's a total amateur by comparison. 

Nick has a gorgeous, expensive-looking acoustic guitar perched on his knee, waiting patiently for Logan to speak. 

"Dude, you're weirding me out," Logan grumbles. "I don't know how this works any more than you do. Nobody ever gives details in the stories."

"You're the one telling me you're a mermaid--"

"Mer _man_ ," Logan insists, with unfortunate shades of Zoolander.

Either it's true, or Logan's a better actor than Nick realized, because he's almost starting to believe. Not that he'd let on, in case this was still some elaborate unfunny joke. "Whatever. All I know is that when I'm around you, I hear snatches of this incredible melody, and so I called you over here today so that I can figure the rest of it out. The whole part where you think you're apparently a mythical sea-creature is news, but I'm willing to overlook it."

"And the other part?"

Nick looks slightly annoyed now, focused on the music. "Which other part?" 

"Never mind." Logan sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Look, I don't know how to make you hear the song! I'm not even sure what it's called! I wasn't given a 'How To Be a Merman' handbook when they dumped me on shore. I don't have a mentor, I can't even figure out how to pick out other merfolk. What I do know, I've pieced it together over time." Logan stopped, not wanting to rant or unload on Nick about his shitty secret double life. "Are you hearing it right now?"

"I always hear it when you're near me. But not like I did upstairs, in the kitchen." Nick fiddles with the headband he sometimes wears when his curls get too long. Logan's eyes follow his every move, admitting only to himself that he really likes Nick's hair, and is kind of curious as to how sproingy his hair might be, if he were to pull on one of the tighter curls. He resists the urge. Nick continues, "it was like a jolt, it's why I dropped that damn glass." 

"When our hands touched."

"Yeah."

"Okay." Logan holds out his hand, like he's offering it to shake. He's game. "Come on. You know, give it a shot."

Nick quickly inches forward in his chair, resting the guitar on the floor, and softly grasps Logan's hand with his own. It's there, but it's still pretty faint. He squeezes lightly, adjusts his grip, then presses his thumb into Logan's wrist and feels his pulse. It's better, but not nearly as loud and clear as it was before. Nick frowns. "Something just isn't right."

Logan doesn't want to appear to encourage this more than he already has, but he's curious to learn more about himself, about his abilities. It's only somewhat begrudgingly when he says, "I think it might've been the water. I, er, the glass was wet. My hands were wet. Maybe it, I don't know, amplifies the sound. Since I'd normally be in the water when humans, you, hear it."

"You could be onto something, Lerman." Nick, still grasping his hand, drags Logan out of his seat, pulling him through the door and towards the sink in the hallway bathroom. "Could be worth checking out." Neither of them let go first, so when Joe, Jack and Garbo come bursting into the house moments later, they're still holding hands.

Joe takes this in, but says nothing. The boys drop their hands quickly, faces pink and guilty, not looking at each other, even though nothing remotely scandalous had even occurred.

Their research is waylaid when they're dragged out almost bodily to the backyard pool by the other guys and his brother, so Nick hopes he can corner Logan for long enough to test their theory without raising any suspicions. He also worries slightly in the back of his mind about Logan growing a giant fishtail where his shorts should be, but shrugs it off. They've gone swimming together plenty of times and certainly today wouldn't be the day that it suddenly happened in some comical, cinematic fashion.

Based on that knowledge alone, Logan couldn't possibly be a merman. Not that Nick really believes him anyway.

 

It's a long afternoon. The three-on-two water-basketball game was especially difficult (not even taking the uneven number into account), as every time they'd come into contact while in the pool, Nick's gotten a jolt of the song, little teases, and he feels almost drunk off it. It's like Logan's absolutely vibrating with the tune, and now Nick _needs_ to hear the whole thing in full volume. He can't handle it any longer.

Joe and the other guys had gone in to raid the kitchen despite him totally not living here anymore. Apparently their new place not only doesn't have a pool, it doesn't have food. 

It's Nick's best chance.

No pretense, no explanations, he just motions for Logan to swim closer. "I can't wait any longer. We've got to try this now." He doesn't mean to keep speaking but the rest just sorta slips out. "You're driving me crazy, dude."

"Sorry," Logan shrugs, but it's not really an apology. He grins and Nick thinks he looks eager to try this, too. Logan swims over quickly until they're both standing up in the shallow end, water rolling off their skin, as far away from the large house as they can get. "Let's see how this works."

The music draws Nick in closer, and he's surprised at the warmth that radiates from Logan's dripping skin. And as Nick steps into Logan's personal space, the warm chlorinated water laps around their waists, swirling to accommodate their every move. He looks down at Logan's body: no fishtail, no scales, just slim hips and bright green shorts. Moving somewhat jerkily, Nick puts a hand on Logan's arm, curling it around his shoulder. He breathes in sharply as the curious telepathy begins. 

It's immediately loud and clear and everywhere. The sound of it was humbling, and the song hadn't changed since he'd first heard it as a child. It invaded all of his senses like a symphony's closing piece, all at once a grand finale, and suddenly Nick isn't standing in the shallow end of his backyard pool. He's in the ocean, no, _under_ the ocean, and Logan is there and they're floating. The music curls around him like a warm current. He's weightless and he can't breathe but it's the good kind of not breathing. The kind where you could if you wanted, but don't want to breathe because you feel so incredible and taking a single breath will only bring you back to the realities of being human so you hold it in for as long as you can.

Nick feels overcome by the music and realizes the futility. He'll never be able to focus on the individual notes like this, he isn't meant to. He can't learn this song, won't be able to repeat it in all its glory, and he isn't meant to. It's too overwhelming and he admits defeat, allows himself to breathe again. His knees buckle and he tips forward, leaning into Logan, breath coming in short gasps. Logan takes a step back to lean against the pool wall. Nick follows, presses into him, dropping his forehead down onto Logan's right shoulder, all dizzying contact. He still can't quite catch his breath, face buried into Logan's neck, heart beating fast. 

Then he feels Logan's warm hand on his own arm, squeezing gently, and just as suddenly as it all started, Nick's aware of where he is and what's going on. He's hard. Oh, fuck. Nick pulls away quickly, the music fading out as he breaks the contact he'd just so desperately sought.

The contact he's still, embarrassingly, aching for.

Logan is grinning wickedly at him. 

"What's so funny?" he demands, hoping Logan hasn't noticed, hasn't felt him. 

"Uh, sorry," Logan coughs, trying to wipe the smile off his face. There is another pause, then "I was just wondering if, um. Okay, that ring that you wear?"

Nick has heard enough crude colour commentary from the media about his purity ring, and instinctively braces himself for whatever came next. He clenches his fists under the water to keep from grabbing protectively at the silver chain hanging around his neck. "Yeah?" His tone was unusually brusque, but he didn't apologize, as Nick didn't really expect Logan of all people to make jokes at his expense, particularly in a moment like this.

"I just wondered if, you know, that applies to non-human contact. Because, uh, well," Logan begins to feel tongue-tied, embarrassed. "Because I think, maybe, and I can't be sure of the biology of it or anything. I couldn't figure out that part of, I mean, with the fishtails and everything? I didn't think they'd be enchanting themselves to grow legs all the time for just a quick roll in the sand. It seems like a lot of work." He's rambling now.

"Get to the point, Lerman."

Logan bites his lip, stalling. "I mean, uh." He pauses again, takes a breath. "I'm so sorry, Nick. We lost control and I definitely feel like you maybe just lost your virginity. Um, merfolk style."

Nick's face turns a deep red, and Logan isn't sure whether it's from rage or humiliation. "Are you kidding me?!" Nick yelps a little too loudly, and then winces at the sound of his own voice echoing off the house. He takes a few steps back, in case anyone were to look out and see he and Logan nearly chest to chest. It would probably come off as more than a little incriminating.

Joe would have a field day.

"Well, I mean, the whole point of a lot of the lore I've read about my kind has been about how we use our songs to lure in humans and have our way with them. Maybe that's how it works."

"I _knew_ you were trying to seduce me!" Nick exclaims, triumphant. The tension broke, and just like that, things felt back to normal. No accusations of merman-on-man rape. "You know that I can't resist a good melody!"

"Are you saying that I'm irresistible?"

"I'm saying that you've been using your creepy sex-predator fish-magic against me." Nick knew there had to be another explanation for why he's still half-hard, why he wants to reach out to Logan again, without pretense, and not let go.

"At least I can't get you pregnant," Logan points out, smiling that stupid lopsided grin of his. "So, wait, you believe me now?"

Nick doesn't know how to respond. A floating foam mattress is within reach so he hoists himself up and gingerly lays down on his front, propping his chin on his arms and willing his body to regain some composure. Deal with one startling revelation at a time. In the haze of the music and how it made him, uh, feel, old memories came back, and Nick feels something click in his mind. "We met in the ocean."

"Well, yeah, dude," Logan nods, stating the obvious. "I saved your ass. It was only a couple months ago."

"No, I mean, I know now where I first heard your song. We were here on vacation when were really young. I was maybe six or seven. You, it _must_ have been you, showed up beside our tour boat, pulled me underwater with the music, and I almost drowned." Nick regards Logan carefully, trying to remember the face of the little boy he'd met underwater so many years ago. The boy he'd all but forgotten about.

Logan leans back in the water, floating, his arms supporting him on a pool noodle. His face was slack with memory. "Oh man, I remember that. I was swimming with my brother and sister, and got lost when I started swimming out to sea. I came up to the surface and realized I was really far from shore, but I didn't care. We were fighting and so I'd decided to run away. Swim away. Whatever."

"It had to have been miles from shore where I saw you, though." Nick is shocked at how quickly the memory has come back, a box unlocked in his mind. "And you were just hanging out underwater, not breathing, talking to me."

"I've always been able to hold my breath for a really long time. It was part of why my family accepted the truth about me so easily." Logan chuckles softly. "I think my lungs are more like a dolphin, or a manatee? It's just my outsides that are different, human. Inside I'm basically an aquatic mammal."

"Is that the scientific term for it?"

"Order _Sirenia_ ," Logan announces proudly. "It was named after us, somewhat indirectly. They used to think that manatees were descended from us, because their faces look almost human sometimes."

"Nerd," Nick snorts, but not derisively. "Sea cow."

Logan pushes the noodle down so he's sitting on it, and hugs a beach ball that comes floating by. He allows a few moments to pass, listening to the sounds of cars passing on the other side of the wall. "My parents had people looking for me for hours that day." Logan chews on his lip. Nick can't help but stare. "I'm sorry, Nick. I was just a screwed up kid, trying to get home to a home I don't even know existed for sure at that point. I didn't mean to, you know, lure you into the water with my siren song."

"You're weird."

"Yeah."

"I don't think I mind." Nick casts a glance back at the house, and grabs the end of Logan's pool noodle, pulling him in. 

Nick wonders if the song would always make him react that way, or if he could adjust the volume somehow, because with the way that Logan was staring at his mouth, Nick has every intention of touching him again.

 

 

Logan really, really likes the expression on Nick's face. He's surprised to see it, but he's excited, because this is the expression Logan's otherwise only pictured a hundred times over the last couple of months, and suddenly it's actually there in front of him. Nick's got sort of a cautiously resolved set to his eyebrows, deadly serious, like he's about to defuse a bomb. Eyes focused, lower lip sucked in. Like Logan was something delicate, something volatile, might explode at any moment.

Nick's hands betray his false calm, though, as Logan can see them shaking slightly as he allows himself to be pulled closer through the water. He speculates fairly fleetingly on whether Nick has ever kissed a guy before, and quickly lands on _definitely not_ which is followed swiftly by _oh shit_ , and then just _oh_.

There's a big difference, Logan realizes, between befriending a chiseled, saintly seventeen-year-old pop-star, and fantasizing about kissing him. And then having those fantasies suddenly come true because your unconscious powers of seduction presented themselves in the form of a hauntingly catchy musical number, and therefore have apparently turned that pop-star genius a little gayer than they were before you'd met them without actually doing anything on purpose. Logan isn't quite sure if he should feel guilty about unintentionally messing with Nick, or if it was really his fault.

He doesn't have time to think beyond that because Nick is sliding off the inflatable raft, and Logan decides in that moment that it's him Nick's interested in, and not just the song, so he wills himself to shut it off. He doesn't need it, doesn't want it. He doesn't need to lure in Nick, because Nick is moving in of his own accord. Logan doesn't know if it'll even work, but bravely reaches out for Nick all the same, wrapping a hand around the curve of his hip-bone.

Nick flinches instinctively, but then relaxes as he realizes the music isn't about to jolt into his brain again, and then breaks into a genuine smile. "Oh. So _now_ you can control it?"

"I've never had to try before." Logan feels he needs to be direct, to not lose himself in the moment. He needs Nick to know this is him, and not his apparently seductive mer-powers talking, and that this is legitimately happening. "I guess that means I like you for real."

Nick casts another worried glance toward the house before stepping in to close the last few inches between them, and grins gamely. "Good."

It's difficult to say who technically initiated that first kiss, and they'd most likely argue about it later, but Logan doesn't really care. They're both blessed with the sort of confidence that would allow them to be the one to lean in first. Besides, it was either kiss or spend the next five minutes having a one-eyebrow-cocked staring contest, daring each other into it.

It's warm and it's soft, but most of all it's brief. As far as first kisses go-- first inter-species guy kisses, that is-- it's pretty fucking fantastic by Logan's standards. But oh, Nick's already pulling away again, not with the shock and embarrassment of before, but more likely of the gravitas of what they'd just done. He's gone a bit wide-eyed, staring into middle space, confidence dissipating. 

Nick's hands are still shaking as Logan coils his hands around Nick's wrists, pulling him back in, and it's clear that they're now both unsure of the next move. Nick's biting his lip, when that's all that Logan wants to do. It takes a good deal of Logan's willpower to not dive in for another, to wrench his eyes away from Nick's suddenly extremely captivating mouth.

Instead, Logan reaches up and tucks a hand under Nick's chin, catching his gaze. "You okay?"

Nick snaps back from wherever it was he went. "Yeah. Sorry." He smiles slowly. "I guess I'm just, I don't know, processing. I've never, uh, kissed a merman before."

"Ah," Logan understood immediately that it wasn't exactly about that. He'd been there once, although it hadn't been with anyone he'd especially cared about. Not like this. He swallows once, bracing himself. "And?"

"I'm into it?"

Oh.

Nick moves in closer, and Logan feels his whole world shift a little to the left. He hadn't expected this to happen, not _really_. But before Logan can even really think, Nick's mouth is just there and Logan's eyes slip shut. _Yes._ He surges forward, closing the minuscule gap between them.

There's something to be said about innocence. Logan still wasn't clear on what's Nick's experience level was, but he'd evidently had enough girlfriends to make him an excellent kisser. 

He lets his hands wander a little as he leans into the kiss, settling his hands on Nick's waist again, but no lower. He opts to let Nick take the lead. He doesn't want to spook him by moving too fast, but then Logan tries to turn his brain off, stops comparing Nick to a skittish horse.

Nick is less tentative now, anyway, now that the first kiss was over with. Logan likes first kisses a lot, but he admits that it was probably more terrifying for Nick than it was pleasurable, so he finds himself making a concerted effort to make this one count for more. Nick matches him, kissing with increased self-assurance, and Logan realizes that Nick is honestly, really never bad at anything ever. Well, with maybe the minor exception of being clear about his feelings, _fuck_.

It surprises, Logan, however, to feel Nick's tongue suddenly quite boldly added to the mix, and upon realizing this, he makes what he think is a pretty embarrassing sound, but Nick apparently finds it encouraging as he crowds in closer, a hand on Logan's jaw. Logan politely tilts his hips away, not wanting to freak Nick out with how hard he's getting from the contact, but he's already backed against the side of the pool again and can't move more than a few inches.

Logan flexes his fingers, one hand wandering now to Nick's spine, moving up his back. They're beginning to dry off in the sun, only waist deep in the shallow end of the pool, and Nick's skin is hot all over. Logan quite reluctantly pulls back, breaking the kiss.

"I think you're getting a sunburn," he mumbles against Nick's mouth, but Nick doesn't pull away, shrugging off the concern. Running a thumb along Logan's jawbone, he just can't stop smiling, and Logan accepts that he's probably wearing an equally-as-dopey grin. They spend a moment just staring stupidly at each other, breathing hard.

"Uh, Nick?" came Joe's voice, and Nick freezes as he spots Joe stepping out the back door. "The, ah, the pizza is here."

Nick just blinks, biting his lip, and Logan puts a hand to his chest, pressing him to step back. Not that it would fool anyone. They were caught this time, for sure.

Logan twists his neck to watch Joe approach, and he can tell just by looking at him that he'd seen more than he'd bargained for when he came to call them in for supper. Logan wonders for a second how long he'd been standing at the back door, how much he'd seen, if he'd been watching the whole time. Creeper. He also wonders if he'd heard them talking about Logan's secret.

Not that Logan wouldn't trust Joe, but, you know. Secrets are secrets for a reason.

Nick surprises everyone by being the first one to break the awkward moment and speak up. "Veggies or meat?"

Not 'go away' or 'please don't say anything' or even a half-assed 'this isn't what it looks like' ( _because it totally is what it looks like_ , Logan thinks. _Holy shit, Nick Jonas is a great goddamned kisser_.) No. Rather than any of those things, Nick's first reaction to being caught enthusiastically kissing another dude in his family's backyard pool is to inquire about pizza toppings.

Logan doesn't even hear Joe's bewildered answer because he's too busy fighting the urge to kiss Nick again. Because Nick would totally let him.

Joe crouches down on the edge of the pool and Logan can practically see the brain waves passing between the two brothers. He wonders if maybe they've got some sweet telekinetic powers and are legitimately having a silent conversation right now, but settles on 'probably not.' It's safe to assume that Logan is the only person in this backyard with any semblance of a superpower. So, instead he tries to follow the quirking eyebrows and subtle nods as best he can, looking back and forth between the two Jonases, head jerking from side to side like watching a tennis match. 

Logan finally gets the message, though, when Joe stands up with an "Okay, then" and Nick reaches out and grabs Logan's hand underwater. When he squeezes back, Nick blurts out a loud and uncharacteristic curse word, causing Joe to turn around and look at them. "Language, Nicky."

"Sorry!" Nick calls out, and narrows his eyes at Logan. "I thought you'd turned off your little siren song. Nearly gave me a heart-attack." But he's smiling, not angry.

Logan ducks his head guiltily and apologizes. "I'll get the hang of it, I promise."

"Yeah, yeah." Nick gives him his best disbelieving smirk. "C'mon, let's get inside and grab a slice before Joe blabs to everyone about us."

"Did you seriously just say 'blabs'? You're such an old lady!" Logan chuckles. "Do you keep little hard candies in your purse, too, Nana?"

Nick feigns being insulted. "It's not a purse, it's a man's satchel! And you know very well I keep candies in there, because I gave you one once and you announced that you could taste the _sugarfreeness_ , whatever that tastes like. And then asked for another one."

"They're still pretty sweet," Logan mumbled.

Nick ducked in swiftly and pecked Logan on the mouth. "So are you, when you're not being a weirdo." And with that, he hoisted himself out of the pool-- all strong, tanned arms and shoulders, pool water dripping down his skin, swim trunks soaked and clinging to every inch. He turns and looks down at Logan. "Come on, Merman. Pizza's getting all cold and eaten."

Logan swallows and drops his eyes to Nick's feet. "Uh, I need a minute." He looks up with a wry grin. "I need to hang out in here for a minute longer, if you know what I mean."

Nick peers over the pool edge and down into the water. "What's wrong?" Then in a more hushed tone: "Are you growing scales?"

Logan coughs, choking on his surprise laughter. "That's not what's, uh," he shrugs, vaguely gesturing towards his dick. "Don't fucking make me say it, Jonas. I don't think you're ready for it."

Thanks to spending the day out in the sun, Logan can't tell if Nick is blushing or if he really is getting sunburned, but his face is pink and the colour spreads down to his chest. His eyes wide, Nick squats down and dips his feet back into the pool. "So, you're..."

Logan bumps his knuckles against Nick's knee. "Hey, it's like, a compliment. Don't freak out on me."

Nick nods. "I'm not! It's just, I don't know. New territory. I've never had that effect on anyone before." He's looking down at Logan thoughtfully. "At least you didn't come in your shorts from all that crazy merman-style sex. That's much worse." He holds his hands up, not sure what else to say. "I can't really help you with this."

"I'm not, you know, asking for anything, or even suggesting..." Logan twists his face up, awkward. "I just need a sec, man. You've got some skills." He shuffles closer, running a thumb along Nick's kneecap, thinking of the sweet scar he's got on his own now. He tries to focus on that memory, not of the chills Nick's touch gave him then too, but on the blood and the dirt and the pain. Anything to keep his mind off, keep his _eyes_ off Nick's flat stomach right in front of him, and the dark trail of hair running down from Nick's navel.

Except, then he feels Nick's foot graze against his thigh under water, wiggling his toes hello, then moving slowly it across and dipping down between his legs. Logan ducks his head, biting his lip as Nick drags his foot up through the water, and teasingly along the outline of Logan's aching hard-on. "Oh, jeez. Nick, stop."

Nick freezes, and Logan immediately wishes he could take it back. He runs a hand over his eyes. "This isn't working," Logan groans. "Dammit."

"Hmm?" Nick looks over at him, still slightly dazed. "What's wrong?" He pulls his foot away completely.

"You're too god-damned good-looking, Nick. That's what's wrong."

Nick frowned, blinking a little in surprise. That wasn't what he was expecting to hear. "Me? You're basically a mythical sea-creature! Stories have been written about your kind for hundreds of years. Every story I've ever read was about how your people have this ethereal beauty that, as you said, people wreck ships and die for." He looks pointedly at Logan. "Talk about a disadvantage. You've got like, legendary hotness on your side."

"But I've never wrecked a ship," Logan protests. "I've never even caused a car accident."

"You nearly drowned me..." Nick reminds him. 

"Oh, get over that already!" But Logan smiles. It's hardly something to argue over. "All I mean is that it's been terrible trying to resist you these last few weeks, and now I think it's going to get even harder."

"So you only had a semi before?" Nick deadpans, and it takes Logan a few beats to realize that Jonas McChurchy just cracked a boner joke. When it hits him a second later, he nearly doubles over in laughter and it's so unexpected that it takes Logan a solid minute to collect himself again, his snickers only petering out when he feels a rumble in his stomach reminding him of all the pizza they're _not_ eating. 

"Alright, alright. Now I'm hungry." Logan pulls himself out of the pool at last, pulling a t-shirt on and wrapping a beach towel around his waist after wringing most of the chlorinated water from his shorts. He doesn't want to be the jerk who dripped water all over the house. He needs to make an effort now. 

Logan feels himself cancelling plans. Not film roles or other career stuff, but all the little plans he'd been half-making over the last few years, to take off after high school, and travel between movies and jump head-long into research and maybe getting certified as a scuba-diver until he can stupidly afford to buy his own submarine. He didn't feel the urgency like he did before, or the loneliness of hiding who he really is.

Someday he'll try to contact his people, but it isn't going to be _this_ summer. 

He didn't want to say that spending time with Nick was more important than discovering more clues about his identity, but it was certainly going to be a welcome distraction from the stress and worry. Or hell, maybe they'd take a road trip together, and Nick would go down in a submersible with him. It was crazy and dangerous, and incredibly unlikely, but unfortunately so was the idea of publicly dating a good Christian boy fresh from the House of Mouse.

Nick bumps shoulders with Logan as they walk back through the yard, but otherwise they walk separately. Joe seeing them together was enough for one day, and this was definitely a secret for them to hold onto for as long as they can. 

It's okay. Logan knows a thing or two about keeping secrets.


End file.
